Of Names and Destiny
by Aeron Morazaky
Summary: Merlin doesn't have just his magic to hide. He also has his many scars from saving Arthur's hide so many times, as well as his soulmate's name. Everyone has one, the name of the one person they'll love. The color of the name shows what has happened. Blue for before you meet, red when you do...and black for death... Reveal!fic, BAMF merlin


**So I've been obsessing over Merlin fanfiction's for months now, and I finally decided to write one of my own. I read a short story about how their lovers names were written on their body, so I decided to make my own spin off of it. **

**BBC owns Merlin sadly, or else it wouldn't have had such a horrible ending. **

**This story is set in its own little universe of Merlin, where Arthur is king, happily married to Gwen, Mordred is alive...yadda yadda. Find out more in the story!**

Everyone is born with a destiny, whether it be to die at a young age, become a famous bard, or to simply be there to help others with their troubles, everyone has one.

It's simply so much more pronounced nowadays.

When one is born, they have a name written on their bodies. The name of a single person, who they are destined to love. It could be anywhere, in any kind of script, with only the coloring to show if it was real or not. Blue was the color of the name when you haven't met them yet, still unbound by your destiny. When you find the love, some say it burns hot, others say it simply tickles, it's different for everyone. Red shows that you have found your love, and the deeper it gets, the more you understand them. It starts off as a scarish pink, before going to a deep scarlet that could shine bright gold in certain lighting. The wedding bands (if the lovers were to be married) were made of the most vibrant silver, with deep scarlet lines on the edges, and the name of the lover carved into the inside.

But if the lover were to die...the name would go blacker than ink itself. As if all life had been ripped from the scrawling name. Not only that, but it would constantly burn, as if the soul of the lover was trying to bring the significant other to them.

Arthur's was scrawled across the left side of his chest, right above his heart. The name 'Quinevere' was written out in a simple handwriting, no fancy curves or lines, a dull pink, going darker each day. It could take decades before it reached the ending color of scarlet. Arthur's name was written in cursive on Gwen's side, wrapping around onto her back, the same shade of pink. Giaus even had a name, written on the inside of his left wrist in a delicate manner, not quite cursive and not quite print. It was a scarish pink, since he had met his love, though had not gotten the chance of living beside her.

Hunith had her's on her collarbones in an elegant scrawl, the name 'Balinor' a beautiful definition of what their love had been like. Wild and free.

Merlin's on the other hand...was darker than ink itself. It was on his left shoulder blade, almost on top of his shoulder. Freya's name had long since darkened, though among the curving letters of her name, was a trail of baby blue. It looked almost like a small stream of water, signifying the fact that she was now the Lady of the Lake.

Merlin had tried to forget, but she had been his soul mate. So how could he? Eight years of service in Camelot, with Arthur ruling, Quinevere by his side. A new generation of knights was coming along, no sightings of Morgana for over a year. Merlin had even begun to nudge Arthur's view of magic towards the more bright side of things, and had been delighted when his friend had decided to make a peace treaty between Camelot and the druids. It was the first step in a long process, but it was finally happening.

.

.

.

After a particularly long day of training, cleaning up after not just Arthur, but also the new recruits, who had been shocked when they heard their first argument between Arthur and Merlin, mucking out stables, and hauling Arthur's armor to his room to clean after being dismissed, Merlin was drained. Gaius wouldn't be back for at least another hour, doing his rounds. Merlin unhappily dumped Arthur's armor into a chair next to the hearth, knowing he would have to clean it before he went to sleep. Arthur was planning a hunting trip the next day, to see if the new recruits could keep up with tracking and footwork, but Merlin only saw it as a waste of time. He plunked down onto the bench next to his and Gaius' dinner table, letting his forehead rest on the cool wood. He was mentally and physically drained, not to mention sore from Arthur beating on him with wooden sticks. He glanced over at his newest responsibility, the armor, and scowled at it, the use of magic coming to mind.

Gaius never approved of him using magic that didn't have the intentions of protecting Arthur, especially where people could find him. He shook his head, going to find a rag and the polish. Even if he did hate polishing the heavy metal, it also calmed his nerves when he could sit down and quietly think to himself. It was nice when Arthur wasn't telling him to hurry up or that he was an idiot, so Merlin simply settled himself down in the chair opposite the armor and pulled the first piece into his lap, beginning to polish it subconsciously as his mind wandered in several different directions.

Arthur was taking the recruits Evan, Timothy, John, and Kyle out hunting, along with Gwaine and himself. That was seven in all. The hunting trip would most likely take all day, if not two at most. Bandits were always likely, so make that two and a half. He would have to get the supplies before the kitchen staff left, which was in the next hour. He would also have to let the stable hand know about the expedition, so he could prepare the horses.

He would also have to get a sack of medical supplies ready, not to mention the tents, which the knights brought themselves, besides Arthur.

His thoughts stopped there about the next day as he watched his hands scrub away any kind of dirt or sweat that blemishes the armor. It was soothing, almost a lullaby. He shook his head, putting the piece off to the side with a rush. He needed to do his chores, not fall asleep while doing them. He suddenly realized just how tired he truly was. In the past few weeks his duties seemed to multiply with each passing day, with Arthur taking more things into his hands, and no offense to Gaius, but his age was starting to catch up to his foster father, and he needed more help than ever.

This had of course in turn made Merlin's life, all the more less fun.

He sat back in his chair, feeling a familiar burning feeling starting to come on. He sucked in a sharp breath of pain and panic as he surged from his chair, lunging towards the cabinet across the room. The burning feeling began to mount up, and he felt his breath begin to seize as his heart raced. Clumsy with panic, he tore into the cabinet, snatching up one of the potions within, holding a deep purple liquid. He downed the liquid, forcing himself to drink it as his body convulsed with the next spasm of pain through his body, and he somehow found himself laying on the floor in a daze, not sure how long he had been laying there.

His mind felt fuzzy, and he lay there for several moments, trying to see if it would clear. The sound of the door opening gathered his attention as he heard Gaius' voice calling out to him, first in warmth, then worry, then panic. There was the sound of footsteps, and then Gaius was pulling him upright, checking his pulse,

"Merlin..." He murmured softly, and Merlin found he couldn't even concentrate on his mentor's face. His breathing hitched again, and Gaius frowned in concern, "Come on, my boy." He said softly, helping Merlin to his feet. Ever since Freya had died, and her name on his back had gone black, Merlin had gotten horrible attacks. They had faded to barely anything more than a burning sensation and maybe a bit of pain, nothing like the attack he had just had. Gaius seemed to figure it out as well as he led Merlin to the chair he had been sitting in earlier, helping him sit down. As soon as Merlin's back connected with the back of the chair, he let out a yelp of pain as a searing hot agony ripped through the name, carved into his shoulder like a curse.

Gaius gently ran his fingers through Merlin's hair, knowing there was nothing that more could help his ward,

"How long was it?" Gaius asked, having been keeping record of the attacks in a small journal hidden in his many books,

"Don't know..think I blacked out.." Merlin managed to get out. It was the best explanation as to why one second he was drinking the only antidote that couldn't even stop the attacks, merely suppress them, and the next having Gaius walk in to find him collapsed, vial still in hand.

Gaius nodded, going over to record the results as Merlin caught his breath. After the pain slowly faded he managed to push himself to his feet, getting the 'Eyebrow of Disapproval' from Gaius,

"I have chores to do." He muttered, though he had no desire to walk down to the kitchens and stables, "I can't do them tomorrow.."

"Yes you can, Merlin." Gaius said, frowning at him, "You haven't had one of these attacks in months, you need to rest."

Merlin merely frowned back. It was true. Even though Freya had died years before, and after the initial three month period where he would have attacks just like the one he had just had, they had calmed down, only returning with a vengence every few months,

"Gaius, I can't put off my chores after one little attack." He stated stubbornly, heading for the door, "Besides, His Pratiness will have my head if everything isn't ready tomorrow." By this time Merlin had reached the door, hand on the handle, when a firm yet gentle hand landed on his shoulder,

"At least eat and drink something." Gaius murmured, concern in his voice. Merlin sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping,

"Why?" He grumbled under his breath, trying to retain his stubborn diminor, but his foster father could see straight through it, and the older man led Merlin to the table,

"Because you barely eat anymore." Gaius said, "And I won't have you collapse somewhere in the castle." As he finished his sentence he pushed Merlin onto the bench, setting a glass of water and some bread in front of him. Merlin stared suspiciously at the glass of water, believing his mentor was trying to smuggle a sleeping draft into the clear liquid, so he purposefully ignored it, tearing the bread apart in his hands before eating it, one small bit at a time. Gaius watched, obviously pleased with himself as he moved to his cot on the other side of the room, turning down the covers for the night. Merlin watched as he ate, still rather suspicious with his mentor, but he quickly realized just how hungry he was, and was soon tearing into his bread with such relish it would have made Arthur proud. When he was done he didn't even try to chance the water as he stood up, knowing the kitchens were either about to close or were already closed. Either way he needed to get down there to put in his order, and down at the stables.

His first step was fine, but on his second step to the door he suddenly felt rather light-headed, and he needed to grab the table next to him for support. He frowned, thinking off all the side effects of his attacks, but none of them had been this. He tried to take another step forward, but found that his legs no longer could hold himself up, and he promptly fell to the floor on his knees, his eyelids feeling heavier with each passing beat of his heart,

"You sneaky son of a..." He never got to finish his sentence, as he felt himself slip into a deep sleep.

.

.

.

Gaius felt rather bad about what he done to his ward, but he knew the boy needed to rest badly, especially with all the strain he knew his adopted son had on his shoulders.

He had found a new recipe, and had asked the head baker to do it. It was almost every ingredient of his sleeping draught put into a baking product, which was the bread he had just fed to Merlin. The boy had caught on to Gaius' tricks, so he simply had to find new ones.

Getting a better look at Merlin, he could tell the boy had lost some weight, as well as the ever-present dark bags had darkened in shade. He sighed, beginning to push, drag, pull, lift, and finally settle Merlin into his cot. After that was finished, the older man finally sat back a moment to think. Merlin had been ranting about some chores he had to do, and Gaius had heard about the hunting party that was leaving in the morning. He shook his head, mostly at himself, and partially at Merlin. He needed to have a talk with both the prince and Merlin, his stress levels already high about what Merlin could and did get himself into these days, even if there hadn't been a magical threat against Camelot for several months.

He picked up as he thought, finding the vial that Merlin had dropped and set it on the table to refill, before heading up to Merlin's room to sleep there. He would have to inform the prince in the morning that Merlin had not been well, and hadn't been able to do his duties as requested. He felt guilty each time he drugged Merlin, but it was the only way for him to get a good night's rest.

With that thought, he settled into Merlin's small cot, falling into a light sleep.


End file.
